The world continued to tremble as a pair of broad hands pulled the young man into a firm embrace.
Panic-stricken screams filled the air, and the overhead lights flickered anxiously. Accompanied by intermittent bursts of firelight, one of the lamps suddenly crashed down, striking Tu Xi on the back.
He let out a muffled groan, dragging the limp, seemingly unconscious young man into a corner.
—Everything was shaking too much. Tables and chairs were scattered everywhere, blocking the way out. There was no way he could carry someone and leave.
Unless, like his mother had abandoned him, he abandoned Xia Yan.
He could have easily escaped this earthquake if he had dropped the person in his arms.
But he couldn’t.
The café had been decorated with beautiful hanging lights, sharp-edged picture frames, and lush green plants… But now, they had all become dangerous weapons, crashing down one after another.
Thankfully, Tu Xi had already found a safe spot, ensuring the person in his arms wasn’t harmed.
Boom!!!
A bolt of lightning splits the sky outside.
Heavy clouds quickly covered the sky, and fierce winds, along with torrential rain, poured into the world. The lights inside the café had long since been destroyed, leaving their vision obstructed, heightening their other senses.
Tu Xi felt the person in his arms struggles as if trying to get up. He pressed him back down quickly. “Don’t move, it’s dangerous.”
The young man’s face was pressed against Tu Xi’s chest, and his voice sounded slightly muffled. “What’s happening?”
“An earthquake.”
“?”
Xia Yan peered out from his embrace, taking in the chaotic café. Even in the dim light, he could tell how dangerous the situation had been.
The shaking hadn’t fully stopped, and there were still aftershocks.
The disorienting sensation of the ground swaying and the dizziness he had felt earlier hadn’t been an illusion.
His head still throbbed faintly as the system panel’s bright red mission floated before his eyes. Glancing around, he realized it was just the two of them and couldn’t help but pause.
“Where’s your mother?”
“She ran.”
The man’s voice was eerily calm, as if being abandoned by his mother hadn’t hurt him at all. Yet, his grip tightened around Xia Yan’s slender waist.
Their bodies were pressed together, so close they almost merged in the darkness.
“You’re safe. That’s all that matters.”
The intense, burning emotions hidden deep in Tu Xi’s heart suddenly erupted, completely enveloping the young man. Xia Yan’s fingers trembled slightly, and for a moment, he couldn’t find the words to speak.
He wanted to ask, “Why didn’t you leave?”
But he didn’t need to. His heart already knew the answer.
Because Tu Xi liked—no, loved him.
Tu Xi was deeply in love, to the point of no return. Even though he knew being with Xia Yan might lead to pain, heartache, and even giving up on the career he loved, he still loved him.
That’s why, in the face of danger, his first instinct wasn’t to run but to shield Xia Yan in his arms.
For the first time, apart from his parents, Xia Yan felt such intense affection, leaving him a little unsure of what to do.
Scenes from the past flashed before his eyes. Hesitating, he gently took Tu Xi’s hand. His hand was warm, with faint calluses on the fingertips, probably from writing.
Right! Tu Xi was still a top student.
Xia Yan almost forgot.
Xia Yan asked, “Do you really not want to break up with me?”
Tu Xi chuckled softly. “I thought the answer was obvious.”
“Not even a little room for discussion?”
Tu Xi patted his head, remaining silent, letting his actions speak for themselves.
Xia Yan also fell silent.
He spoke to the system in his mind: [I don’t think I can complete the final main storyline.]
The system replied, [As long as you complete the world pillar task, it doesn’t matter if the main story isn’t finished. You’ll just lose some points]
[?]
The system explained further: [Everything you’ve completed so far belongs to the original trajectory of the owner’s life. All of it has been to guide the protagonists toward their destined path, reaching the pinnacle of their life. Now, Tu Xi’s fate has appeared as a side task—he’s destined to become an award-winning actor, admired by everyone. But your actions have diverted him from the entertainment industry, halting his career. Since the protagonist shou’s fortune has diminished, the world issued a warning, causing the earthquake.]
A shattered world was like a scattered puzzle; he had to piece together the earlier parts to understand how to proceed.
Xia Yan’s task as a cannon fodder was nearing its end, and he wasn’t supposed to have much to do with what came next.
But unexpectedly, he had disrupted the protagonist shou’s important career path, which triggered a side task, attempting to bring the protagonist back on track.
In simple terms, the dying world’s consciousness made one last attempt to save itself, offering Xia Yan a fast track.
Under normal circumstances, broken world consciousness would fall into a slumber.
The system theorized: [It’s possible that the tasks you completed earlier repaired some of the distorted storyline, allowing the world consciousness to wake up just a bit.]
The situation was complex, but the system tried to explain it in simple terms.
[In short, the world pillar task is the most important one now.]
The world usually had two pillars, one connected to each protagonist’s fate. Tu Xi’s pillar had already appeared, but what about the protagonist gong pillar?
Xia Yan half-understood: [If the world collapses, will we die?]
[You won’t die,] the system responded in its usual cold, mechanical tone, but oddly, it sounded somewhat reassuring. [For us, it would simply mean moving to another world to continue completing tasks. But for those who live in this world, they would cease to exist.]
Xia Yan’s fingers curled slightly.
Tu Xi, Wang Dazhuang, Zhao Wenhan… everyone he knew or didn’t know would all disappear.
The system continued: [And of course, since the world would be destroyed, you wouldn’t get any points either.]
In short, all his efforts would be for nothing.
[So, the world pillar task is the priority. Everything else can wait. Anyway, the protagonist shou…] The system reluctantly finished its sentence: […is deeply in love with you and definitely won’t end up with the protagonist gong.]
—
The earthquake had come suddenly and ended just as abruptly.
It affected the entire capital, leaving 356 people injured and causing billions in property damage, but miraculously, there were no fatalities.
Xia Yan was unharmed, and Tu Xi suffered only minor injuries, nothing serious.
They both refused further assistance and, after reaching a safe area, received some medicinal alcohol from the medical staff. They found a relatively quiet corner to settle down.
No one was sure yet whether there would be aftershocks.
Though they were in a quiet spot, many people were still huddled together under the wide shelter, afraid to return home.
Rain continued to fall, pattering on the roof, creating a rhythmic sound.
People’s eyes occasionally drifted toward the pair in the corner. From time to time, whispers and glances filled with curiosity were exchanged.
“Isn’t that Tu Xi and Xia Yan? They’re so handsome.”
“They seem to be really close, not like they’ve lost their spark at all.”
“Xia Yan’s applying medicine to Tu Xi. He’s frowning—he must really care about him.”
“Let’s take a picture. If we post this online, people will be so envious.”
…
Feeling uncomfortable with the attention, Xia Yan avoided their gaze, focusing solely on applying the medicine to Tu Xi.
Tu Xi’s back was muscular and strong, with just the right amount of definition over his shoulder blades. His fair skin was marred by a large, swollen bruise, making the injury look particularly alarming.
Xia Yan was careful not to press too hard, gently brushing his fingers over it. “Does it hurt?”
“A lot. If you blow on it, it’ll stop hurting.”
“…” Xia Yan hesitated for three seconds, unsure. “Are you three years old?”
“Mm, I’m injured,” Tu Xi turned his head, his brown eyes looking at Xia Yan, his side profile soft and clean. “So I want your affection.”
Damn, why was he suddenly so straightforward and cute?!
Xia Yan, who had always told himself that the protagonist shou was meant to be with the protagonist gong, found himself caught off guard by this sudden honesty now that Tu Xi’s feelings were crystal clear.
And… this injury was because of him.
“Fine, I’ll blow on it.”
Leaning down, Xia Yan’s face hovered near Tu Xi’s back. The cool, sharp scent of the medicinal alcohol mixed with Tu Xi’s natural woody cologne, created an oddly pleasant combination.
He gently blew on the injury, recalling how his mother used to comfort him when he was a child, softly whispering, “Blow away all the pain.”
As soon as the words left his mouth, he realized how childish it sounded.
What the hell? How embarrassing!
Because Tu Xi was acting strange, he ended up acting strange too. Xia Yan quickly straightened up, his ears burning as he avoided eye contact. “Okay, I’ll go return the medicine.”
“We can go together.”
“I can do it alone.”
“I only hurt my back, not my legs.” Tu Xi didn’t say much more, but his eyes conveyed everything.
Xia Yan quickly walked ahead, calling back, “Do what you want.”
Many people were in the safe zone, and since the earthquake hadn’t been too severe, the internet had only been down for a couple of hours. Photos of the two had already started circulating online.
【I’m so relieved they’re safe.】
【Xia Yan: We’re out of our honeymoon phase. Reality: They went on a date the next day, kissed, left hickeys, and haven’t left each other’s side. Just cute couple things.】
【Poor Curly! You’ve been dumped.】
【Tu Xi is a creep and a stalker. Once Xia Yan finds out, he’ll definitely break up with him.】That comment quickly disappeared under the flood of others.
…
Xia Yan and Tu Xi stayed in the safe zone until evening. By 7 p.m., with no more aftershocks and the area declared safe, they headed home.
“Stay at my place tonight.”
“?”
Tu Xi kept his eyes on the road, his expression steady. “You live on the 17th floor. It’s too high. If there’s another earthquake, it’ll be dangerous.”
The earthquake resulted from Tu Xi straying from his career path, a warning from the world as a form of self-protection.
There wouldn’t be any more danger.
But Xia Yan couldn’t exactly explain that, so he said, “The government has already issued a statement saying it’s safe. You don’t need to worry.”
“I’m still really scared.”
“…”
“I’m scared that if you’re in danger and I’m not there, what will happen?” Tu Xi stopped the car, staring at him intently. “Come stay at my place. I promise I won’t do anything.”
Xia Yan: “???”
“That’s supposed to be my line,” Xia Yan chuckled softly. “But since you’re so worried, okay, I’ll stay at your place tonight.”
Tu Xi went silent for three seconds before offering a polite smile.
Xia Yan: “?”
Nothing to worry about, he had more important matters to address.
“Earlier, you mentioned wanting to quit the entertainment industry…” Xia Yan tested the waters.
“Yes.” Tu Xi restarted the car and nodded. “My parents are very controlling. They’ve always wanted me to take over my grandfather’s company. This time they got their wish, so they shouldn’t bother you anymore. You don’t need to worry about them.”
Xia Yan: “No, that’s not what I meant. I mean, you love acting more than running the company, don’t you?”
“Honestly… it’s about the same. As long as I have you by my side, nothing else really matters.”
“That won’t do!”
“?”
“You clearly love acting more, otherwise you wouldn’t have fought back against your parents,” Xia Yan said urgently. “You don’t need to give up your career for me. You should stay in the industry.”
Seeing Tu Xi hesitate, Xia Yan leaned closer. The distant streetlights reflected in his dark eyes, glowing like little stars. “In any case, I want you by my side in the industry—I don’t want to be alone.”
“But—”
“No buts,” Xia Yan interrupted, recalling Tu Xi’s obsession with him. He swallowed his embarrassment and, acting aloof, added, “As long as you stay, I’ll always be with you.”
“Really?”
Xia Yan: “Of course! But you better work hard and win me an award as Film Emperor.”
Tu Xi quickly turned the steering wheel and parked in a quiet alley. Before Xia Yan could react, Tu Xi had already embraced him, holding his face gently, and placed a restrained, reverent kiss on his forehead.
“Yan Yan, I’m so happy.”
There was no moment better than this one.
—
Morning.
After a night of storms, the sky was a perfect blue. The sun shone brightly, and fluffy white clouds drifted lazily across the horizon.
Xia Yan woke up in the guest room, his fingers brushing over the soft bedding. It took him five or six minutes to fully remember that he was in Tu Xi’s villa.
He opened the system panel in his mind. The bold, red-lettered task was unmistakable.
This wasn’t a dream.
He sat there dazed for a moment, then pushed aside the jumbled thoughts. The most important thing right now is to get Tu Xi to take his acting career seriously again and work towards winning Film Emperor.
Since the guest room didn’t have a private bathroom, Xia Yan left the room and found himself standing on the second-floor landing, from which he could see directly into the kitchen below.
Tu Xi was wearing a white, frilly apron, fully absorbed in cooking eggs.
He looked a bit… like the classic devoted housewife from a novel.
Xia Yan didn’t disturb him and quickly went to wash up. Since he hadn’t brought anything, he was wearing Tu Xi’s clothes from head to toe.
After the earthquake, many things had been damaged, and the first floor felt a bit empty.
Xia Yan walked into the kitchen. “Need any help?”
“No,” Tu Xi gestured towards the living room. “You can rest. I want to make breakfast for you.”
Tu Xi employed a live-in housekeeper who only prepared his meals, and three cleaners came by daily to maintain the villa.
The local housekeeper had injured her shoulder during the earthquake and took the day off.
So Tu Xi personally took up the task of making breakfast. Even simple dishes like sandwiches and salad turned out delicious thanks to the high-quality ingredients.
Xia Yan took a bite of his sandwich, followed by a sip of hot milk. The food quickly soothed the empty feeling in his stomach.
Tu Xi, visibly nervous as if performing at a concert, asked, “How is it?”
“It’s good.”
“That’s a relief.”
“Do you have any work lined up after wrapping up Heartbeat?” Xia Yan asked casually, as though it didn’t matter to him.
Tu Xi thought about the stack of scripts in his office. “I haven’t decided yet, but… right now, I’d rather go on dates with you than work.”
When they first started dating, Tu Xi already had several projects signed, so he had no choice but to join various productions.
He hadn’t been able to spend much time with Xia Yan.
But yesterday, Tu Xi felt the barriers between them starting to crumble, their invisible distance beginning to close… In a way, he had the earthquake to thank for that.
He had to seize this moment and strengthen their bond.
“Is there no script that particularly stands out to you?”
“They’re all about the same, though if I had to choose one…” Tu Xi thought for a moment. “Hu Dao has a script that’s quite interesting. The protagonist is morally ambiguous, with a lot of depth.”
Since Tu Xi always played gentle, kind characters, directors tended to typecast him in similar roles.
Only Director Hu seemed to see past that façade, noticing the cold, indifferent core hidden beneath.
He’d given Tu Xi the script and said, “I was hesitant about casting you as the lead, but after seeing you, I’m certain—you’re perfect for the role.”
Tu Xi didn’t understand why at the time.
“You have someone you love deeply,” Hu Dao had smiled. Though he was getting on in years, his eyes still shone with wisdom. “Only with love can you go mad for love.”
To be honest… it felt unsettling.
Being seen through like that.
Tu Xi had accepted the script with a pleasant smile but didn’t open it for another two or three days. The script, written by renowned suspense screenwriter Zhong Gang, was tightly paced, and the protagonist had a multi-dimensional personality with a drastic character arc. If played well, it could easily win awards.
But he didn’t like the ending.
So, despite Hu Dao’s repeated invitations, he hadn’t yet agreed.
Xia Yan, curious, asked, “What’s the plot?”
Tu Xi summarized, “A loser who, after losing everything, seeks revenge.”
Due to a confidentiality agreement, he couldn’t reveal too much.
“Sounds good. And with Hu Dao directing, the box office is practically guaranteed.” Xia Yan subtly guided him. “I want to see one of your films in theaters.”
As always, Tu Xi couldn’t resist Xia Yan’s requests.
Under his persistent urging, Tu Xi found himself unknowingly lowering his guard. “After I finish Heartbeat, if Hu Dao hasn’t found another lead, I might consider it.”
“Great.”
Xia Yan lounged lazily on the couch in Tu Xi’s villa, a magazine covering his face to block the sunlight. He was dozing off when the buzz of his phone woke him.
Opening it, he saw a friend request from an unknown number.
The note read: [Brother Xia, it’s Chu Zizhe.]
?
That name sounded so familiar, but he couldn’t quite place it.
He accepted the request. Almost immediately, a ‘crying cat’ sticker popped up as if the sender had been waiting.
[Brother Xia, I miss you so much.]
[Who are you?]
Short but lethal.
Chu Zizhe deflated instantly, taking a while before replying pitifully, [Brother Xia, have you already forgotten me? Boohoohoo, I’m so sad.]
He followed up with a photo.
In the picture, a boy was holding a basketball, smiling brightly under the bright sun and amidst fallen autumn leaves. His curly hair made him look like a fluffy dog.
His distinct features triggered Xia Yan’s memory immediately.
His fingers moved faster than his brain: [Curly-haired boy.]
Chu Zizhe: [QAQ]
Calling people by their nicknames was indeed impolite. Feeling a bit guilty, Xia Yan scratched his nose and decisively changed the subject:
Xia Yan: [Why are you looking for me?]
Chu Zizhe: [Can’t I just want to see my brother Xia Yan?] Chu Zizhe continued to act coy, [Brother, you’re so mean. You left me all alone in the garage. I felt so sad.]
Xia Yan: [How did you get my WeChat?]
Chu Zizhe: [Is that the only thing you care about? I’ve missed you so much these past few days, I can’t even sleep. Every time I see you with someone else, I get so jealous.]
Xia Yan: […] Xia Yan felt overwhelmed by Chu Zizhe’s clinginess. His social anxiety kicked in, and he just wanted to end the conversation:
Xia Yan: [Alright, there’s nothing between us. That night at the bar is over. Let’s cut ties and block each other.]
Chu Zizhe: [???]
He quickly dropped the playful tone and got serious:
Chu Zizhe: [Wait, brother, I have something important to tell you. It’s about Tu Xi.]
Xia Yan’s fingers paused over his phone.
Xia Yan: [Tell me.]
Chu Zizhe: [It’s hard to explain over WeChat. Let’s meet in person.]
Xia Yan: […I’m blocking you.]
Chu Zizhe: [Brother, believe me! QAQ.] Chu Zizhe gritted his teeth, silently cursing Tu Xi, but his fingers were still sending cute, pleading emojis:
Chu Zizhe: [If Tu Xi isn’t around, I can send you some evidence first.]
Hearing this, Xia Yan instinctively glanced in Tu Xi’s direction.
The man was sitting not far away, flipping through a cookbook. When he noticed Xia Yan’s gaze, he turned his head slightly and gave him a gentle smile.
Xia Yan lowered his head and typed:
Xia Yan: [He’s not here. Go ahead.]
Chu Zizhe sent over a photo. In the dim light, Tu Xi was wearing a baseball cap and mask, talking to another man.
Xia Yan: [?]
Chu Zizhe: [The man next to him is called Huang Jiancheng, a private investigator. Tu Xi hired him to follow someone.]
In that short message, Chu Zizhe revealed a lot.
Xia Yan’s mind flashed back to when he went to get a new phone card and saw that black car behind him. He also recalled the occasional feeling of being watched.
Tu Xi… had been having someone follow him all along?
Chu Zizhe: [Brother, don’t worry. I already have proof of Tu Xi’s dealings with Huang Jiancheng.] Chu Zizhe was confident: [A creep like him isn’t worthy of you. Once we release this, the public will definitely be on your side.]
That would be the end of Tu Xi’s acting career…
Xia Yan: [No, you can’t release it.]
Chu Zizhe: [Brother.] Chu Zizhe was stunned, his jealousy flaring up: [After everything he’s done to you, aren’t you angry?]
Angry? Of course, there was anger.
But underneath the fury, there was also a sense of relief and reassurance.
Since coming to this world, Xia Yan had always felt like Tu Xi was too saintly—someone who was so selfless and giving in love that they would sacrifice everything, even for a scumbag partner.
This often left Xia Yan feeling uneasy.
He used to comfort himself by thinking that the protagonist shou had to be a good person, and surely they would find happiness together.
Now, knowing that Tu Xi had his own schemes, it was like seeing someone who had previously been ruled by their emotions finally standing on their own two feet. It oddly made Xia Yan feel proud.
Xia Yan: [Where are you? Let’s meet and talk.]
This matter was indeed too complex to discuss over text.
Chu Zizhe quickly provided an address—it was a private room on the second floor of the bar where they first met:
Chu Zizhe: [Brother, I’ll be waiting for you.]
After closing the chat, Xia Yan looked over at Tu Xi and casually said, “A friend asked me for a favor.”
“Is it urgent? Why not stay for lunch before heading out?” Tu Xi had already ordered groceries online and was holding the cookbook, hoping to convince him to stay: “I really want to cook for you.”
“Maybe next time,” Xia Yan avoided eye contact, “Besides, I need to tidy up at home. I’ve already stayed here long enough.”
His decision to leave was firm.
Tu Xi’s gaze wandered over Xia Yan before settling on his phone. Who had messaged him? Zhao Wenhan, Zhao Wenxiu, or that annoying half-breed?
Their relationship had just taken a step forward, and Tu Xi didn’t want to ruin it.
So, he only smiled and waved as Xia Yan left.
Once Xia Yan was gone, the spacious villa felt even more empty, so quiet that he could hear his own heartbeat. Tu Xi tossed the cookbook onto the floor, his eyes dark and unreadable.
“Troublesome people.”
–
The bar was nearly deserted during the day, with few customers, leaving only a soft love song echoing through the space.
Xia Yan stepped onto the second floor and entered the designated private room, only to find an unexpected guest:
“Zhao Wenxiu? Why are you here?”
“Brother, I missed you.” Chu Zizhe bounced over, closing the distance between them in a few quick steps. With a grin, he said, “I didn’t want him here either, but he helped with the investigation, so I had no choice but to bring him along.”
